


Back to Square One

by ImJaebabie



Series: Original Dreamies [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Closure, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Sure didn't know what this was gonna be when I started writing it, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 12:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16040696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJaebabie/pseuds/ImJaebabie
Summary: Donghyuck would really just like to be hugged sometimes.





	Back to Square One

**Author's Note:**

> IF you have not read the first in this series (Because It's Your Birthday) I suggest that you do so first!! It's short, and this one is going to reference it immediately. And you may be confused. (And will also have the previous work spoiled. Which...how sad. Don't do that to yourself.) 
> 
> Also—PLEASE keep in mind that I do not know these people. This is FICTIONAL. And while it's fun to imagine things like this for them, please do not take this too seriously. While this references actual things that happened, I do not pretend to know that those events were implications of anything else, or know how their personal lives are. I also have NO IDEA what Mark's feelings are about having to graduate from Dream, so please do not be too concerned if you don't agree with my depiction here. It could be entirely, completely inaccurate. For all we can tell, MarkHyuck's friendship is perfectly fine, and all of Dream support each other wonderfully and care for one another. Thanks.

Donghyuck is confused. Every time he thinks he’s got things mostly figured out, it feels like someone comes and erases his perceptions as easily as whiteboard marker, when he thought he’d written them down in pen. 

He means Mark. Mark is the one who does this to him, all the time. It’s so unfair. 

The unfairness is, in Donghyuck’s opinion, that Mark doesn’t seem to know or acknowledge his constant disruptions of Donghyuck’s world. He has  _ no idea  _ that Donghyuck’s a permanent passenger on the struggle bus due to him. And it makes Donghyuck feel a little pathetic, since literally all he wants is to occasionally be like...hugged or some shit. Which he feels like he’s made super clear, and isn’t  _ that  _ pushy about, and anyway isn’t it Mark’s job as leader to make sure they’re all cared for? Does that not include emotions? Donghyuck’s emotions feel particularly neglected. 

Things were supposed to  _ improve _ after Mark’s birthday. Not...this. He just can’t figure out where he got it wrong.

**Perception** : it’s now fine to cuddle Mark. 

**Evidence** : Mark spent his birthday teasing me and then kissed me. And then accepted three (3) cheek kisses. 

**Reality** : Mark won’t even let me link arms with him. Mark pushed me. (evidence receipt V live, August 2018)

**Conclusion** : ???? Mark is mean and wants me to be sad. 

Donghyuck’s staring at the notebook he’s written this very scientific analysis in and chewing on the end of his pen. He’s considering trying it as a math problem instead, and seeing where things don’t add up, when Renjun just bursts into the room (as usual). 

“Hyuck-ie if you’re done showering we gotta—um.” He halts, taking in Donghyuck still in his practice outfit, sitting on his bed and staring back at him with a pained expression. 

“Jun-ie,” Donghyuck starts, aware that his voice sounds more timid than normal, “am I stupid?”

“I don’t wanna answer that one without context.” 

Donghyuck groans and tips back until his head smacks against the wall loudly. He feels Renjun take the notebook out of his hand, and waits with prickling skin while he quietly surveys Donghyuck’s dilemma. 

Renjun sighs. “You’re a little stupid.” 

“You’re a little no help at all.” 

Ignoring the response, Renjun plops onto the bed beside Donhyuck and steals the pen from him, starts scribbling on the page. “I’m lots of help. Look. You’re doing this all wrong.” 

In place of Donghyuck’s very scientific assessment, Renjun quickly writes a short list of questions. When he’s finished, he taps the pen against the page, and Donghyuck gives him a distrustful look. 

“Mark’s not an experiment, that’s never gonna work. When you can answer these quiz questions, report back to me and then we’ll have something to work with,” Renjun instructs, effectively stepping in and taking over Donghyuck’s personal dilemma. 

Hyuck gnaws on the insides of his cheeks. “Don’t tell the others for now?”

“What’s to tell?”

“That I’m pathetic and dumb?”

“Yeah, we all already know that. But I won’t talk about it if you don’t want me to. Now will you please shower so we can go have dinner? Jeno has probably started eating the others by now.”

They laugh for a second, but taper off quickly as both realize the propensity for that to actually be true. With some urgency Renjun heads for the door, pausing a moment just before opening it to turn back to Hyuck. 

“He really did kiss you, huh?”

Donghyuck feels his face burn. “Well, yeah, but he was just trying to mess with me, I think…”

Renjun cocks an eyebrow and then nods at the paper still in Hyuck’s hands. “I think you’ve got some progress on question one.”

“Ugh. Hey, wait.”

"Yeah?”

“Hug me?” Hyuck asks, fluttering his eyelashes in what he hopes is an appealing and convincing manner. 

Renjun barks a laugh and wipes a fake tear from his eye. “Oh man….no. Bye.”

As he leaves, Donghyuck sighes, staring at the notebook and the list of questions he now has to answer. With a helpless shrug, he leaves the page facedown on his bed and heads for the shower.  

-

_ Q1: Did Mark suddenly become a different person after his birthday? _

 

Donghyuck spends a lot of time observing Mark over the next few days. He knows what he wants the answer to be: yes, Mark has changed since his birthday, or at least their dynamic has changed, or  _ something  _ should be different. He wants it to mean that Mark understands what Donghyuck needs from him, and is finally willing to cooperate with his modest requests. 

That’s what he wants, but the more he watches, the less hope he has of it being true. As they prepare for their comeback, Mark does exactly as he always does, which is to throw himself heart and soul into preparation, practice, and recording. He listens to Jeno’s rap and offers suggestions, helps smooth out his flow; he works on choreography with Jisung until it’s perfect and they’re both satisfied, and confident that the others will get it as well; he praises Renjun’s vocals and tells him how good the riffs sound, that he’s really holding his own in the new songs—and similarly for Chenle, who he reminds that his vocals are just as crucial to their sound as the others’; he gives Jaemin nonstop encouragement and reassurance that he is happy to have him back, that Dream is complete with him again. And Mark, as always, shakes his head in disbelief at Donghyuck as he finishes recording Go Up. 

“Effortless, Dude! That sounded so good. This song is lit!” 

Hyuck practically glows from within at the praises, validation of his singing only second to being held in terms of his favorite things. From inside the recording booth he itches to reach out for something, anything really—a high-five even. He imagines Mark running inside to ruffle his hair, or pinch his cheek, maybe even hug him. 

But Mark doesn’t do that. What he does offer is a thumbs-up and genuine eye-smile, from the safe distance of a glass wall between them, and Hyuck has to take those for what they’re worth. 

Donghyuck would like for their to have been some change. But there isn’t. 

-

_ Q2: Have you, Hyuck, considered what Mark thinks about this? _

 

_ Is this on purpose??  _ Donghyuck wonders, trying to glance subtly across the space and five other members that separate him from Mark. Does he have to sit next to him? No. But does he want to, like...sometimes? 

...he didn’t pick the seating arrangements. Not for filming Dream Camp, not for their Mugi Box with Doyoung, and not for even their short live cast on their anniversary. So is there a reason why lately he’s always on the opposite side of their small world? 

He hopes there’s no particular reason. Because if there is one then someone came up with it. And if someone came up with it, then that someone could be Mark. And if Mark came up with the reason...well, then Donghyuck really has to evaluate things. 

When the camera shifts away from Donghyuck for a moment, there’s suddenly an elbow in his side. He winces but keeps steady, just in case the camera pans back, but shoots Chenle a glare.

_ Why?? _ He hopes the glare communicates.

Chenle raises his eyebrows and jerks his chin to the side. It’s a combo Hyuck recognizes as “ _ What’s wrong with you?”  _ and  _ “Focus!” _

Hyuck rolls his eyes and adopts his “we’re filming” expression, something between looking neutral and pleasantly attentive. He hears Chenle sigh next to him. 

The focus doesn’t last long, as Mark continues some long-winded explanation of their album concept and Donghyuck loses concentration to the sound of his voice, watching the way his mouth shapes the words in near-perfect Korean pronunciation. His mind slips back into a memory: the Mugi Box interview, the cool metal pin of the small medal between his fingers…

 

_ “Ah seriously, it’s me and you?” bemoans Mark, his tone exasperated although there’s a smile teasing the corners of his lips.  _

_ While the others giggle, their medals already pinned to their breast pockets, Donghyuck is wholly focused on approaching Mark behind them, a weird kind of nervous anticipation making his hands quiver. Why would Mark act surprised? Obviously, with the seating arrangement, it had to be Donghyuck. He himself knew it the moment they started, and only half paid attention to the others while rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head. Mark’s pin was the most important, and so Donghyuck’s words to him were consequently also the most important.  _

_ The other challenge was, of course, Donghyuck’s recent fixation with getting Mark’s affection, which was hyper-inflated by the boy’s new styling for their comeback. The more mature haircut, back to natural black and styled away from his face, paired with the sharp suit and Mark’s overall lack of any remaining childhood chubbiness, only reminds Hyuck more that Mark is every bit an adult now. He tries hard not to focus on the strong spread of his shoulders, or the extra-sharp definition of his high cheekbones, but the closer he gets the harder it becomes to ignore. _

_ Donghyuck squeezes the pin tighter and fiddles with Mark’s pocket, wondering why on earth it’s so difficult to attach the stupid thing and why his fingers won’t keep still.  _

_ “What is this awkward feeling…” comments Renjun, drawing a nervous giggle from Mark that only makes Donghyuck’s task more difficult. If Renjun could just….not….he might get through it a little faster… _

_ With the pin finally attached, Donghyuck lifts his eyes and takes a breath, trying to recall the few words he wanted to say.  _

_ “Thank you for always leading us and being our strength as the oldest hyung,” Donghyuck starts, the words coming out sounding just the safe side of rehearsed, if a little stilted. But then his mouth sort of just continues without him, taking a line from Donghyuck’s brain that he doesn’t recall approving for release. “I always wanted to tell you that I love you.”  _

_ To Mark’s credit, he takes it in stride and doesn’t seem any more shocked or flustered than usual when Donghyuck’s being cringe-y, so even though his pulse is running frantic Donghyuck thinks he probably spoke par for the course.  _

_ This, he determines, is a reasonably believable moment for a hug. Right? Vaguely emotional, heartfelt, somewhat ceremonious...in Donghyuck’s mind it adds up to an embrace pretty easily. Naturally, even. So he lifts his arms in anticipation and takes a step towards Mark _ —

_ Who promptly takes two calculated steps back and pointedly sticks out his hand.  _

_ A handshake. Donghyuck offers the gratitude and love of the entire group, and he gets *a handshake*. The others laugh as Mark evades him, which is only mildly annoying anymore, and honestly he should really be used to it. _

_ The disappointment passes in an invisible second as Donghyuck adapts, taking Mark’s warm, firm hand in his two and then morphing easily into their signature friendship handshake, seeping up what delight he can from that. He’ll let the hug go. He’s not an idiot, after all _ — _ okay, Renjun may say otherwise _ — _ so he can take a hint. He can go back to his seat on the other side of the world no worse for wear, probably... _

 

The elbow in Donghyuck’s side is not so much jabbed this time as it is digging, insistent and painful. The effort to steel his face and not react on camera proves immense, but Donghyuck forces a tight smile and casually puts an arm around Chenle’s shoulders to inform him that he got the message. Chenle relents, the elbow leaving only a bruising sting behind, and the recording continues without any incident, but Donghyuck feels realization begin to sink in. 

He doesn’t have to wonder what Mark thinks about being physically affectionate. He doesn’t have to worry about whether Mark was the one to seat Hyuck as far from himself as possible. All Hyuck has to do is accept what he’s been fighting and denying for long enough; Mark isn’t touchy, and Donghyuck forcing it won’t make him so. To Donghyuck, touch has always equaled care—he can no more easily separate the two in himself than he can separate his mind from his body. But slowing down and reflecting on all Mark has done for them, for him, over the past few years…

Sometimes, he thinks, maybe you can care from a few steps away. 

-

_ Q3: Have you, Hyuck, noticed or wondered specifically how Mark is doing lately? _

 

It’s pretty uncommon for the studio to make a mistake like this, but when they get the call that some of the parts for  _ Dear Dream _ got deleted by accident and need to be recorded again, Donghyuck just shrugs and accepts it. He’s a little annoyed, just a bit, because he felt like his recording session had gone well, but it’s not like he’s forgotten how to sing the song. 

With the release date as close as it is for the album, there’s no time to spare, and the re-recording has to be done immediately. It’s a quick shuffle to get them each back in the booth between their other schedules, but Donghyuck gets slotted for last and settles into the lounge room a floor above until it’s his turn. He plays the guide track on repeat a handful of times while he waits, humming to keep his vocal cords warm, then decides to head down a bit early so he can be ready to record right away. Mark should nearly be finished, and it’ll be better not to waste any time.

He doesn’t expect to find someone crying in the stairwell, and he  _ really  _ doesn’t expect it to be Mark. 

_ What do I…do… _

Donghyuck’s brain engages panic mode as he rushes down the remaining stairs to where Mark is sitting, furiously trying to wipe away the tear streaks from his face and hide his emotions.

“Hyung are you okay? What’s wrong??” Donghyuck asks, halting a few stairs below Mark and hovering, hands out but unsure where to go with them. His instincts are demanding that he wrap the other boy in a protective hug, make sure he’s all held together, but Mark’s overt rejection of any kind of touch has Donghyuck hesitating. He drops his hands, opting to crouch down and get on Mark’s level instead. 

Mark’s shoulders heave in a sob that he tries unsuccessfully to contain. “N-nothing, I’m-I’m fine. I’m fine.” 

“Yeah, and I’m 185cm tall,” Donghyuck quips, unable to stop the sassy remark before it gets out. 

Red-eyed, Mark looks up at him with a nonplussed expression, but it dissolves quickly back into sniffles. He bites down firmly on his lip and looks to the floor again, white-knuckled fingers gripping his knees tight. 

“Seriously, why are you crying? Mark hyung, talk to me,” Hyuck presses, quieter.

The stairwell echoes with the aching sounds of Mark’s shaky breathes as he tries to regain his calm, as if the building itself were crying and not just one over-taxed boy inside it. Hyuck’s fingers twitch, but he holds back. 

“Honestly, I don’t know how to handle this,” Mark starts, voice low and raw, weepy sniffles mixed in. “I feel like, sick. I’ve been so tired for so long, always getting bounced around between units, never really knowing if I fit everywhere or nowhere. Some days I’m like the youngest and some days I’m the oldest, and some days I forget which thing I’m supposed to be, and—” he pauses, glancing up at Hyuck before dissolving into a few seconds of silent shaking and covering his eyes. He rubs tear-wet hands on his thighs then and pulls himself in tighter, arms wrapped around his shins as he perches on the stair. 

“It’s okay, you can tell me.” 

“There were so many days when it felt like the world was blurry even with lenses, like I couldn’t see my place in it no matter how hard I tried, and I just wanted a break! I just wanted some of it to go away...and now it is, cause I have to leave Dream, and I feel sick because...I’m relieved...” 

Donghyuck’s stomach drops; even though he’s eaten lunch just an hour ago he suddenly feels empty. Mark... _ wants _ to leave them? 

The shock must show on Donghyuck’s face, because Mark looks horrified and grasps for him, takes both wrists in his hands. 

He splutters, “Hyuck, no I don’t mean...I don’t want to leave Dream! I love Dream, you  _ know  _ I do. That’s why I feel so terrible. I’m relieved because I’m tired of being tossed around and getting no sleep and trying to do everything, but Dream is...Dream is my…” Mark’s head drops again, renewed tears big enough to drop from his chin onto the white-painted concrete between his sneakers. 

Without permission, and maybe he’ll regret it later, Donghyuck twists his right hand out of the grasp Mark has around his wrist and gently combs his fingers into Mark’s hair, hoping the petting motion can be soothing without being too invasive. He can’t just stay there, legs complaining that he’s crouched for too long, and do  _ nothing _ , but he’s not sure he has the words to comfort Mark either. He won’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt a little to hear, but he won’t pretend he doesn’t understand either. He knows the feeling because he’s felt it before when trying to balance 127 activities with Dream schedules. Of course Mark would have it harder than him. 

“I know, I know, it’s okay,” he whispers, running tracks over and over across Mark’s scalp. It’s the most words he can find. 

Mark seems to calm a little, his breathing slowing down into a more normal tempo. It strikes Donghyuck that he can’t share this with the others, and that it’s probably best he’s the one who heard it. He’ll get to keep working with Mark for sure, while who knows if or when the others will be included in 127 or U activities. Donghyuck has it the easiest. 

Now he  _ really _ feels shitty for being so inconsiderate. 

Donghyuck’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket, the vibrating tone echoing disruptively in the mostly empty space. 

“You’re late for recording,” Mark points out, head still bowed. 

The younger shrugs, drawing his hand to the back of Mark’s neck and squeezing once. “I know. I’ll be there in a second. But listen, once you feel a little calmer, why don’t you come back to the studio? I don’t like the idea of you sitting by yourself feeling like this.” He waits for Mark to look up and meet his eyes so he can convey how serious he is.

Still sniffling, Mark searches Donghyuck’s eyes for a minute before bobbing his head in a nod of agreement. “Thanks, Hyuck-ah.” 

With a final squeeze, Donghyuck makes himself leave Mark where he’s sitting and go to the studio to record. It’s only once he’s inside the room and picking up his sheet music with the lines to follow that he remembers it’s  _ Dear Dream _ he’s recording, and a thick pressure of emotion balls up inside his chest. 

It takes him four tries to get just the first chorus right. At the boards, the song producer gives him a confused look around the third attempt, because Donghyuck’s usually reliable to get it right quickly especially when he’s done it before. But he’s not usually recording with the image of a tired and pained Mark in the back of his head, while singing a song about letting him go, so Hyuck figures the producer can cut him some fucking slack.

Mark comes in as Donghyuck’s about to record his high parts over the second chorus, although Hyuck doesn’t see him until a fraction of a second before Renjun’s part is finished and it’s nearly his cue. 

In that moment Donghyuck feels two things very strongly: one, the urge to choke on the words and start crying, suddenly hit with all the emotion present in the song; two, the urge to sing it as best he possibly can, so that Mark can hear him, so that Mark can be convinced by the words that Donghyuck couldn’t find in the stairwell but knows are right there in the lyrics. 

He chooses the second. 

Breathing in deep, Donghyuck leans in close to the mic and locks eyes with Mark through the glass. He hardly hears himself sing; he more feels it, like he’s evaporated into the music flowing from the headphones and his voice is just an extension of it, all bespoke into existence by the deep brown eyes gazing back at him. 

 

_ I’ll be your home _

_ Yeah _

_ I’ll be yours _

_ I’ll be yours _

_ I’ll be yours _

 

The recording plays a couple seconds longer before it cuts out, not quite getting to the part of Mark’s rap that follows. Vaguely, Donghyuck can hear the producer proclaiming the recording good, better even than the first time they had it. He absentmindedly thanks the man, getting confirmation that he’s finished before gathering up his hoodie and water bottle and bee-lining for the door. If Mark has an expression that means “I’m gonna hug you” more than the one he’s just been wearing, Donghyuck can’t imagine in, and he’s not about to let it expire before he can get in range. 

Mark’s got his hand pushing the viewing room door open and Hyuck practically phases through the one in front of him, and then they’re both in the hallway outside, finally facing one another.

Except for Jaemin in between them, that is. 

“Was that your recording I just caught a note of? Sounds so good, Hyuckie,” Jaemin coos, immediately throwing an arm over Donghyuck’s shoulder and squishing against him. 

He loves Jaemin, he really does, but he’ll kill him. At twelve minutes past midnight this night, Donghyuck will kill Na Jaemin for ruining this extremely important moment in his life that will probably never occur again. The plan has been made, the date has been set, the knife is being shar—

Mark lets out a shy chuckle, and says, “It did sound really good, Hyuck-ah. Even better than the first recording.” 

The desire to hug is fading from his face, Donghyuck can practically see it going as Mark scratches the short hair behind his ear while complimenting him. It’s infuriating. 

“Well...thanks,” is all Donghyuck can say, half-squashed by Jaemin and teetering on the wire between massive disappointment and genuine validation. “Nana, get off me before I kick your ass.”

Jaemin releases him, laughing as though the idea delights him. “Oh please,” he replies, “save it for the rooftop. If you guys are done, we gotta go. Photoshoot with Arena or Dispatch or some shit.” He holds out both hands for them to take, and Donghyuck grabs without thinking; Mark just rolls his eyes and walks ahead of them. 

Donghyuck and Jaemin follow, Jaemin swinging their arms together and chattering while Donghyuck has an internal crisis about his own neediness and inability to figure out his own life. 

It’s fine, except that it isn’t, now that he knows just how weighed down the wide set of shoulders walking in front of him is, and that he still doesn’t know what to do about it. He  _ does  _ know that the more he answers his list of questions, the less he cares about his original crisis, and the more he cares about getting Mark to let him in. He’s going to figure out how to support that idiot with his whole self if it kills him.

-

Donghyuk is absolutely certain he’s having a real, honest to god heart attack when Renjun explodes through the door and slaps the console out of Hyuck’s hands, casting his sweet, innocent Nintendogs mercilessly to the floor. 

“Coco!” Donghyuck wails, flopping forward to reach for the game, but Renjun’s got hold of his shirt at the back and his struggles to retrieve the device from the floor are fruitless. Eighty-five percent of Renjun’s strength comes from sheer force of violent, compacted, internal rage, which ought to be less than you’d think for such a tiny person but happens to just be enough to thwart Donghyuck from leaving his bed. 

The wiry Chinese boy kicks at Donghyuck’s hip, tugging on the shirt to force him off his stomach and sit upright. “Hey, stop whining and sit up. We need to talk.” 

“Stop kicking me and strangling me! God why are you so viole—ow  _ fuck _ okay!!!”

Donghyuck winces at the pinch Renjun applies to his thigh and gives up, shuffling around until he’s sitting normally—and a solid foot from his group mate. “Talk about what, demon?” he asks, rubbing the still twinge-ing spot on his leg.

Renjun’s stare is firm. “How’s it going?”

“How’s it...you came in here and attacked me to ask  _ that _ ???” 

“And if I did? I mean the questions, stupid. About our dear Mark hyung. Did you answer them?”

A small twitch develops in Donghyuck’s eye, but he pushes past it and the urge to try one of Renjun’s on-brand headlocks back on him. “A bit nosy, aren’t ya? What makes you think I even decided to use your list anyhow?”

Tilting on his side and digging a hand into his back pocket, Renjun pulls forth a piece of notebook paper, thrice folded and crumpled with obvious continued opening and re-folding. “You dropped this in the bathroom earlier. You’re just lucky I happened to go in there before Mark did, or the rest of them.” 

Donghyuck snatches the paper from his hand. “Ah fuck.” His face is red, he can feel the heat from it all the way down to his kneecaps. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Feel free to buy me food for the rest of the month...but why is it blank?”

“What?”

Renjun points at the paper crushed inside Donghyuck’s hand. “The last question. Why didn’t you answer it?” 

The familiarly softened leaves of the paper unfold easily in Donghyuck’s fingers, his smudge-y writing filling in cramped lines below each question except for the last one. 

**_Q1: Did Mark suddenly become a different person after his birthday?_ **

          No, he’s the same. Because Mark grows and learns and improves, but he doesn’t change. Because he’s reliable and steady and good. And I, Hyuck, don’t want him to change.

**_Q2: Have you, Hyuck, considered what Mark thinks about this?_ **

          I am a selfish boy who imagined he was being mean to me on purpose when really he just doesn’t love being touched. But he does, however, love us (re: Dreamies) and that is way more important.

**_Q3: Have you, Hyuck, noticed or wondered specifically how Mark is doing lately?_ **

           I am selfish boy 2.0 who has been focusing on my own need for attention and not been thinking about the emotional trauma of having to leave us, the Dreamies, the superior unit, and how trying that is. 

**_Q4: Why don’t you just talk to Mark?_ **

          …

“Oh, uh, yeah I’m not gonna do that. Talk to him.”

“Obviously you aren’t, since you haven’t, which I know because I pay attention. The question is  _ why _ .” 

Donghyuck analyzes Renjun, sitting cross-legged on his bed with his hands folded in his lap, narrow shoulders turned a bit inward and deep, deep brown eyes fixed back on him. Sometimes he hates how perceptive Renjun is; maybe not always the first to say something, but almost always the first to see it. 

“It’s not important,” replies Donghyuck, giving in to the question as he traces a finger along the pattern on his duvet. “My dumb infatuation with getting him to be more affectionate...it just isn’t important enough to talk about. I just sort of figured that out, I guess. If he doesn’t want to hug me, then he doesn’t.  He’s not responsible for my stupid emotions, and there’s always Nana. Or like, the hyungs I guess. Doyoung hyung is always a slut for a good hug. So it’s not important.” 

Renjun appears to mull the answer over. “Okay,” he says, “that’s fair enough for now. You’ll have to address your own feelings at some point but this is progress.” 

“My what? Feelings? What feelings??” 

As Donghyuck asks, there’s a knock at the door followed by the appearance of Jeno, or some of him anyway as he balances on the doorknob and leans into the room. “Hey, can one of you come takeover in the kitchen? I no longer trust Chenle. Probably ever again. I’d ask Jaemin but he’s showering and he takes forever, and Mark keeps trying to ‘help’ and things are about to go critical so—”

Renjun pushes off the bed. “Coming. Quick though—true or false: Hyuckie has feelings for Mark?”

“True. Uh oh...can you smell that??” Jeno exits in a rush while Donhyuck splutters, his earlier blush returning with a vengeance. 

“ _ Those _ feelings. If you want, we can work on another set of questions to clear those up later.” The Chinese boy leaves Donghyuck with a cheeky grin and follows after Jeno, his voice echoing back down the hall moments later as he encounters whatever disaster is happening in the kitchen.

Donghyuck wordlessly tilts sideways until he topples completely onto his bed, face smushed almost uncomfortably into the duvet. His chest feels funny. His head feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton. He can’t really breathe exactly. 

_ Feelings? _

He takes the idea, digs a deep hole in his consciousness, and drops it inside, fills the hole up again with reasons why that’s absolutely the most ridiculous things Renjun has ever said. 

\--

The deep hole isn’t quite deep enough, Donghyuck realizes over dinner. Amidst the loud banter that is a constant for any meal with Dream, he can’t manage to stop thinking about  _ why _ Renjun would say something like that to him, in his own room, in front of his puppies…

It isn’t helping that Mark keeps staring at him every time Donghyuck looks up from eating. Mark has very little talent for telepathy, but a very strong sense for when one of them is acting off, and Donghyuck knows he’s being quieter than usual. He appreciates the concern...usually. But not right now.

Jisung and Jeno are in the middle of physically wrestling over the last dumpling—Jaemin quietly eats it while they aren’t paying attention—when Donghyuck calmly excuses himself and makes his way out of the dorm. It’s still pretty warm out, but he stuffs his arms into a zip-up hoodie anyway and pushes the elevator button for the highest floor, staring blankly at his shoes while he waits for the doors to slide open. Once inside, he repeats the same action until the doors open again, and then seeks out the rooftop exit and finally free air. 

Seoul always looks different to him in the evening. As lights flicker on in tall apartment buildings, hundreds of units blinking like a myriad of eyes winking awake, he watches the city that seems to look back at him and tries to let it wash the thoughts out of him. But the little list is in his back pocket like a hot coal, and the many eyes that usually soothe him all seem to stare and question him instead. 

Donhyuck hears the rooftop door open behind him and isn’t surprised—it was likely enough someone would follow him. Likely enough that it’s Mark, too, and he doesn’t feel the need to turn and find out. Mark will ask him what’s wrong—he’ll come and lean on the railing, probably backwards so he’s facing Hyuck, and give him that concerned look that makes people think he’s sad. And Hyuck will make up some excuse in response, that Mark will probably trust enough to drop the subject. Because Donghyuck has already decided that he doesn’t need to bring things up, and he’s sticking to that.

He’s right that it’s Mark. Donghyuck learns this by noting the long blue sleeves covering his arms where they wrap around Hyuck from behind and link under his ribs. He can correctly identify that, but he can’t identify why Mark is back-hugging him. 

“Hyung, what are you doing?” The calmness in his voice doesn’t match the static in Donghyuck’s brain, but he’s otherwise frozen inside Mark’s arms so he can’t do much more than ask. 

“Hugging you,” is the response.

“Why?”

“You seemed like you needed a hug.” 

As much as Donghyuck doesn’t want it to end—holy fuck, he doesn’t, Mark is hugging him of his own volition, this is basically a miracle...is he supposed to call the Vatican? or the Dalai Lama? He doesn’t know who signs off on this stuff—he’s too confused. He tries turning around inside Mark’s arms, but isn’t surprised that Mark lets go and shuffles back, digging his hands into his jeans pockets instead. 

“You thought...that I seemed like I needed a hug. You thought that, and also did it. You did.” 

Mark dips his chin, avoiding Donghyuck’s eyes. “Yeah, so? Was I wrong?” 

Wrong? Hell no. Breaking every conclusion Donghyuck had literally just accepted and come to terms with? Most definitely. 

“Honestly, I meant to hug you before...like, in the studio the other day. But Jaemin—”

“I know, Jaemin. But it’s fine, there’s no need.”

The distant sound of cars on the street below rings in Donghyuck’s ears as Mark nods. The older boy’s shoulders lift subtly as he takes a deep breath, finally looking up again. 

He says, “I think...there might be a need. Sometimes.” 

“No, really,” Donghyuck persists, though in a small state of shock, “it’s not like I was waiting for you on that. You didn’t owe me one.” 

“But I wanted to, to thank you.” Mark speaks a little louder now, as he tends to when he wants to prove a point. “I felt terrible and you were there for me. The least I could do was hug you, that’s not selfish at all to ask. How reliable am I if I can’t even do that sometimes, when it’s actually called for? When it is important?”

“You’re always reliable, don’t be dumb. Just because I’m selfish about...” Donghyuck stops, the words Mark’s just said swirling around in his ears. They were all too familiar, too directly echoing the messily scribbled conclusions tucked away in his pocket. A paper that Renjun had said he’d been lucky to find before anyone else did. But how did he know he’d had that luck? 

Mark takes his pause as an opportunity to continue. “You’re really not selfish! And I  _ can  _ change, I’m sure, now that I’m an adult it’s about time—”

“So did you memorize everything I wrote down, or like take a picture? Just wondering if I should let you reference the paper directly at this point,” Donghyuck interrupts, leaning back on the rail and crossing his arms tightly. He’s glad it’s dark, because his face is hot with embarrassment. 

“Oh. Um.”

“It’s obvious you saw them, the questions. Why pretend you didn’t?”

“I thought...you were going to come talk to me. It was the last question. It was blank. But you weren’t, were you?” 

“I’m fine. Didn’t need to.” 

Mark’s mouth is set firm as he stares at Donghyuck, and the younger can’t help but think of how different an expression it is to the one he wore after surprise kissing him just a few weeks earlier. Maybe...maybe there has been some change since then. Just not the kind he was watching for. 

The expression turns into a disgruntled frown crossed with a light blush, which Donghyuck can just barely make out in the light from the buildings behind him. “Well, that’s your opinion. I don’t fill things out halfway though, so I think we should talk about it.” 

“You’re that bothered by me not answering the last question?” Donghyuck asks, and Mark looks oddly caught. “Or...do you, by chance, also have a list…” 

He answers in a rush. “Renjun won’t get off my back till I finish his homework, so if we could just—”

“What does it say.” 

“It’s not really important, let’s—”

“ _ Hyung. _ ”

“ _ Hyuck. _ ” Mark counters him in that tone that means he isn’t going to budge, no matter how much Donghyuck pesters him and whines. So once again Donghyuck is back to his original state, where Mark confuses him and makes everything difficult. 

“It’s unfair,” he mutters, scowling at his feet while scuffing the heel of his sneaker against the gravelly rooftop, “you got to see my answers, but I don’t get to know yours?” 

“Lee Donghyuck.” 

He drags his eyes upward, willing them to appear as sullen as he feels, and is surprised to find Mark stepping closer to him again. Mark stops with just an inch between the toes of their shoes, the rubber soles nearly touching. 

“He may be trying to help, but Huang Renjun is not our therapist. Whatever exactly those questions were is irrelevant. It’s...not easy for me to be affectionate. I’m sorry for that. But I’m not cool with you downgrading the importance of your own needs just to accommodate me. I want you to be able to rely on me for anything...even if it’s just a hug. I just...I need to know you’re not just being playful, and you’re actually looking for my support.”

For once, Donghyuck is speechless. He unfolds his arms and straightens up, rubs a hand over the back of his neck. Maybe Mark is actually....super fair...really, disgustingly just, a whole Captain America—or Canada?—level of egalitarianism…

“Give me your hand, Hyuck,” Mark asks, holding out his own. 

Donghyuck does, tentatively because Mark initiating all this skin-to-skin contact freaks him out a  ~~lot~~ little. The grip is firm and warm—Mark’s hands are just the slightest fraction larger. This time, Mark doesn’t continue into their six-step friendship shake, but holds calmly. 

“Can we agree to this? You can hug me, or ask to be hugged, when you really need me. In return, please don’t be hurt or upset if I pull away from all the casual, constant touching, since it makes me uncomfortable.” Mark proposes the compromise, and waits for Donghyuck’s answer with a visible mixture of expectancy and nervousness in his eyes. 

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay hyung, but you have to promise to tell me whenever you’re feeling overworked or stressed, and let me know how I can help.”

Mark hesitates for a moment, seeming surprised, then nods. “Deal.”

There’s the part of Donghyuck, the part that likes to push every boundary and test for every loophole, that wants to know just how wide the parameters are for what he can request, but when Mark’s trying at his most sincere to give him this much Donghyuck decides to refrain from his usual antics. For now. 

He smiles gratefully instead. “Okay, deal.” 

Mark shakes their hands once with vigor to seal it. As they stand with the night sky glowing around them, hands still clasped, he quirks an amused smile back at Hyuck. 

“I bet you want a hug right now, too. Don’t you?” 

Donghyuck sighs. “Am I that easy to read?”

“Not always, but sometimes. Here,” Mark pulls Donghyuck by the hand, only letting go to loop his arms around and hug him properly, one hand resting near his waist and the other up at his shoulder. 

Like that, held voluntarily and with the understanding of just how much Mark cares (garnered from a lengthy investigation), Donghyuck internally laughs at himself for thinking anyone else in his life could reasonably replace this. And for telling himself it didn’t matter to him, that he was selfless enough to be fine with never getting to fold into Mark’s comforting warmth, the vague clean scent absent of cologne but so familiar. He manages not to get too snuggly, not to nose against the smooth skin of Mark’s neck like he’d like to—he’s seen Yuta try it with Winwin and he’s got enough self-preservation not to mimic THAT—but he does allow himself to rest comfortably on Mark’s shoulder and carefully link his arms around the older’s middle. 

Donghyuck’s almost evaporated into perfect happiness when Mark hits him with—

“It’s so weird that you’re so savage all the time, when all you really want is to be cuddled like a koala.”

“How...dare you call me out like this...Mark Lee…here in my moment of peace...”

“I’m just calling it like I see it.” 

Mark giggles at the groan of complaint Donghyuck responds with, then gives one good squeeze before bringing the hug to an end. “Come on,” he says, “let’s head back down and make sure Jaemin’s still alive. I saw him sneak that dumpling and Jeno’s been in a mood lately so I’m not convinced it isn’t a full-scale brawl in the dorm right now.” 

“You’re stupid if you think Na Jaemin can’t smile his way out of actual murder when it comes to Lee Jeno,” Donghyuck corrects him, following calmly behind as the leader heads for the stairs back down. In a daring moment, he grabs the loose part of Mark’s sleeve before the older can get out of reach. “Hey, does our agreement include asking you to hold my hand?” 

Mark laughs. “No,” he says, but turns his arm and takes hold of Donghyuck’s hand anyway. “starting tomorrow.” 

All the way down to the dorm doorway Donghyuck enjoys the hand enclosing his, and keeps mostly quiet while getting to appreciate Mark from that close. 

As Mark keys the code into the door, Donghyuck suggests, “Let’s um, not tell Renjun that talking worked. I don’t need him holding that over my head for the rest of my life.” 

“Me either.” 

They enter to find no brawl taking place, and all traces of dinner cleared and cleaned away. Donghyuck suspects that to be mostly Jaemin’s doing. 

“You’re back,” observes Renjun, his eyes crinkling knowingly. If Mark notices, he ignores it, and instead removes his shoes before crossing his arms sternly.

“And why is everyone still up? Do I have to be here to tell you all to go to bed?” 

From where he’s reclined on the couch, head resting on Jaemin’s thigh, Jeno replies casually, “Well, there aren’t going to be a whole lot more days where you  _ will _ be here to tell us.” 

Donghyuck silently sucks in a breath, glancing up from putting his shoes away to see the fallout, but no one else seems to visibly react. Neither Jisung nor Chenle looks up from the computer game they’re both playing on the floor, and Jaemin’s eyes are stuck to Jeno’s phone, watching over his shoulder as he continues to scroll through social media feeds. 

Mark’s shoulders rise and fall calmly. 

“That’s right,” he agrees unexpectedly, and bounds forward to squeeze past the two youngest and drop into the corner of the couch beside Jaemin, “so as appreciation of my presence, tonight we’re going to stay up instead! Nobody gets to sleep until we watch at least one X-Men movie.”

Immediately there begins a loud discussion about which movie and what character is best, with Chenle whining for Marvel instead. Donghyuck doesn’t interject his opinion—Mystique is the superior mutant, but he’s not about to argue tonight—and finds his way to Renjun’s opposite side. He pulls the folded blanket off the back of the couch and cocoons himself into it, then plops down as the decision gets made. 

Renjun leans over immediately. “So, got yourselves all figured out? How are those feelings?”

“Can’t imagine what you’re referring to, Jun-ie,” Hyuck replies airily from inside his cocoon, cracking a tiny smile when Renjun sighs and rolls his eyes. 

“Oh fine. Be like that.” 

“I will.” 

To Donghyuck’s eyes, the scene around him is perfect now. The youngsters haven’t stopped playing their game even though the movie has begun, and there’s a continuing discussion about the tv volume level between Jaemin and Mark that doesn’t seem like it will end anytime soon, unless Jeno gets tired of Jaemin jostling him enough to steal the remote. Every so often, when Donghyuck tries to sneak his cold toes underneath him, Renjun kicks Donghyuck and sniffs uncaringly at the responding complaint. Someone mentioned popcorn, but nobody’s offering to make any, and it’s doubtful anyone will unless Jeno asks Jaemin directly, so they mostly just watch the flashy, rather violent movie in relative quiet, but distinct home-grown comfort. 

And though they are once again on opposite sides of their small world, when Donghyuck happens to catch Mark’s eye he receives a soft smile in return. Yeah, he’d love to be right next to him, wrapped under his arm in addition to the cozy fleece blanket, but he no longer feels the bothersome pang of confusion. Mark is there for him, he knows that for sure, and he always will be. Sometimes he’ll even get a hug.

\---

Excerpt from a crumpled notebook page in the very bottom of Mark’s waste bin, considered out-of-date and thrown there shortly after a similar one was briefly found in the bathroom (but left as though unnoticed):

**_Q1: Have you even changed since becoming an adult?_ **

          I haven’t really changed much except getting taller? What should be different? Am I responsible for even more now?? It was just like any other birthday. Nothing special happened to me. Uh....well...maybe something a little special.

**_Q2: Have you, Mark, considered how the others (Dreamies) view you?_ **

          I thought just as a hyung and leader. Somewhat as a friend. Honestly, maybe there’s more detail to that. Like, do they know how to be Dream without me? I’m not sure I know how to be NCT without being Dream, though. And Donghyuck is different because he’s in 127 too so….different. 

**_Q3: Have you, Mark, considered why hugging Donghyuck bothers you?_ **

          ~~I want to lie and say it doesn’t bother me. I’m not ...cuddly, like that, though. The birthday thing...was an exception. Yeah. I can’t treat Donghyuck different than the others, I can’t let them think I don’t care about them all the same amount, not when I have to leave. I’ll see Hyuck all the time. I have to be fair.~~ It bothers me because it’s different from how everyone else hugs me. It means more to him, I think, and I’m afraid of being responsible for that. I can’t give him all the  ~~ lo- ~~ attention he wants, and I don’t want to confuse him. The birthday thing WAS an exception.

**_Q4: Why don’t you talk to him?_ **

          Um. I don’t know? 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hey I'm sad about Mark leaving Dream and this has been me coping with it basically. also sorry for the super janky formatting.  
> thanks for reading, and comments/kudos!!! <33
> 
> now you can also yell at me at my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/ImJaeBabie) 


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